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My simple-minded dog recently went on an unplanned adventure. Because the simple dog is so very simple, her adventure was alarming and horrible for everyone involved.

Even in her normal, familiar environment, the simple dog exists in a state of almost constant confusion.

She also appears to have very little control over what she is doing or why she is doing it. For example, the other day, she was standing in the middle of the room just staring vacantly. Then she started turning in circles like she was preparing to lie down.

But instead of completing a few rotations and then lying down like a normal dog, she got stuck in the repetitive motion and couldn't stop turning slowly in place.

She is definitely not the type of animal that would thrive in the wild.

Unfortunately, she managed to escape one day while we were out walking, and she very nearly became a wild animal.

In the park where we were walking, there is a large horse statue. We had passed the statue many times without incident, but for some reason, on that day, the simple dog became highly alarmed by it.

No one expects their dog to instantaneously develop an extremely specific fear of horse statues, and I was unprepared for her reaction, which was to sprint powerfully in the opposite direction. Unfortunately, what the simple dog lacks in cognitive capacity, she makes up in ground speed, and her sudden fleeing yanked the leash from my hand.

I chased her all the way across the park and into an adjacent neighborhood. She ran into a partially fenced yard and, when her forward trajectory was interrupted by the fence, she began to gallop in giant, crazy circles just out of my reach.

I'm fairly certain she had already forgotten what she was running from and had no idea what was going on, but there she was - propelling herself in endless loops around someone else's yard.

After several minutes of tearing around in circles, she felt compelled to take off running in a straight line. She didn't know where she was going, but she was going to go there really fast.

I have spent a truly impressive amount of time teaching the simple dog how to respond to her name. I distinctly remember the self-congratulatory feelings I had when I thought I'd succeeded. I've done it, I thought. I've overcome all of the obstacles and taught this animal her name, and now she will return to me like a falcon whenever I beckon her.

But as I watched my dog disappear into the distance, I realized just how futile my efforts had been.

I spent the rest of the day frantically trying to find her. I drove around calling for her on the off-chance that she would actually respond. I stopped random people on the street to ask them if they'd seen her. It started to get dark and I imagined my poor dog, lost and scared - completely unable to make sense of what was happening to her.

Finally, I got a call from a woman who had managed to catch the simple dog. The woman said that she found the simple dog standing in the middle of the road, wagging her tail and barking at cars. She gave me her address and I drove over to collect my wayward animal.

When I got there, the simple dog was curled up in a little ball on a towel on the woman's floor. I walked over to her and she looked confused.

She had forgotten who I was. She thought she lived on the towel.

She was wet and dirty and she stunk like she had rolled on a dead animal. There were burrs in her tail. She had puked up a pile of half-digested grass onto the woman's nice wood floor and was attempting to re-ingest it.

Based on the evidence, her adventure went something like this:

I helped the woman clean up the mess that my disgraceful animal had created in her home, then I thanked her and called my dog to go.

The simple dog did not respond, so I picked her up and carried her out.

I was glad to have her back, even though she didn't know who I was. I couldn't blame her for forgetting. A dog who becomes terrified by the mere existence of a stone rendering of a horse is not a dog who is well-prepared to absorb hundreds of unfamiliar sights and sounds, and I reasoned that she was most likely still in shock. I can only imagine how overwhelming the whole ordeal must have been from her perspective:

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the simple dog had trouble readjusting to being at home in the aftermath of her big adventure.

Because of her cognitive handicap, the simple dog is at a unique disadvantage when it comes to coping with minor obstacles that most dogs would take in stride. For most dogs, getting a taste of freedom wouldn't be something that would cause a major shift in their perception of reality. But it absolutely ruined the simple dog.

She had only been outside by herself for a few hours, but the staggering amount of new experiences had crowded out all her memories from before the adventure.

As far as the simple dog was concerned, she had been snatched away from her life as a wild, towel-dwelling animal and transplanted to a strange wonderland filled with terrifyingly unfamiliar sensory bombardments.

We have experienced these episodes a few times before. From what I understand, they are a pretty normal consequence of disabled-dog-husbandry, and are usually pretty fleeting. But this one was different. This time, the precipitating incident had been so extremely, entirely mind-bending that the simple dog had actually forgotten how to be a domesticated animal.

We had to teach her how to use the stairs all over again.

Despite having been potty-trained for the overwhelming majority of her life, she started blatantly soiling the carpet right in front of us, as if she had no idea she was doing anything wrong.

She violently destroyed every toy she had - even her inexplicably-patriotic-themed squeaky owl toy, which is her favorite.

And after she destroyed her owl, she grieved. And we had to sew it up for her to avoid pushing her any further into psychosis.

She forgot her name and how to sit and all of the various other things we'd spent so many hours carefully guiding her to understand.

We did eventually manage to re-domesticate the simple dog. She re-learned stairs and how to not pee in the house and how to respond properly when her name is called. She may not remember exactly who we are, but she seems to accept that she lives with us now. She even plays nicely with her toys.

But every now and then, she will stare wistfully out the window.

And through the window, she will see the outdoors.

And sometimes, when the shapes of the trees and grass and birds hit her brain in just the right way, she will feel the call of the wild deep within her soul.

I don't know whether to laugh or cry. For some reason, it makes me cry. You know, actual tears, and not the kind that come with laughing. Poor dumb dog. Poor you. If there was ever proof positive that some dogs are born brain damaged, this dog appears to be a poster child.

I have never encountered a more lovable animal. It might be that I love your dog for the same reason I like babies: they simply do not understand the world around them, and therefore you never know what they might do.

I was NOT prepared for the "Bohemian Rhapsody" moment and was taking a drink of water when I came upon that part. I seriously just did a spit-take, straight out of a movie or tv show.

As a shelter volunteer, I have encountered dogs with issues and I just wanted to say I am so, so glad that you have this poor, poor dog. Also thank you for making me almost die laughing at work just now.

DAMN, I have a dog just like that. I HATE HER. LOL. Is your dog part Border Collie?

...My dog barks at icicles. My dog also forgets everything just from running in the backyard. She barked at our new van, three days after we got it and she finally noticed it in the driveway. She barked at Christmas lights. She barks at the water coming out of the eaves trough.

For me, being reminded that my dog is actually an animal with aggressive instincts and wild behaviors is one of the most traumatizing experiences. For a while, I'm all: Look we both like to run and nap and stuff. We're the same! And then something happens, like, he finds a dead squirrel and tries to eat it (true story) and I'm crippled by the fact that I'm sharing my home with a beast. Who also happens to be a Maltese.

lovely!what i've seen most, for the while i've been reading you, is your amazing leaps and bounds in the drawing world. i mean, i'm really impressed with what you can do with paint! and it takes a good while of practice to get those effects. go you. you are awesome.

Poor Simple Dog! I think my dogs have dain bramage, until I read or re-read a Simple Dog story. Then I feel like mine are savants. I have to go clean the carpet pooped on by my savants now. Thank you for making me laugh about it!

Allie, every time you write something this hysterical I end up being yelled at for laughing too loud. *Cue sad simple dog faces.*

On a completely unrelated note, (lies, haha) my dog once wriggled her way offleash in McCall, Idaho and bolted. I spent five or six hours looking for her in town, in the foothills, everywhere. It started to get dark and I went home about ready to cry. When I unlocked the door and went inside I heard scratching at the back door.

She'd run out of my line of vision and then made the perfectly logical conclusion to sprint back home.

Ohhh Allie. Simple dog and my dog Bailey are so similar. To be honest, after having Bailey for a week or so all Roomie and I could think was "Holy shit she is exactly like Simple Dog!" I'm pretty sure we could make a blog dedicated solely to our life with Bailey the Wizard Dog, aka Destroyer of All Things.

This post is so sad, but so funny. You're a more patient woman than I think I would have been.

Oh. My. God. I am so glad my dogs are [slightly] smarter than yours. You are doing a great service taking care of this retarded animal. You are doing an even greater service telling the world about it through the most awesome drawings ever.

Oh, and I thought you were never going to post again after I spent so many months devouring your blog from start to finish.

Wonderfulous to see a new post, and absolutely hilarious as well. Thankfully my dog was never this simple, you must have the patience of a goddamn saint to retrain the poor thing every time this happens.

I always find your posts witty, well written and very entertaining. Just wanted to say this: I have a friend whose dog presented a lot of the same behaviours. Making circles, confused, not recognizing you. Turns out her dog was autistic... Dogs can have that too, it seems.

Your dog used to be known by a different name but apparently you've chosen a more politically correct name... Either way glad you've posted a new entry! When are you getting your own animated show?! You are needed!!

I'm so glad that you touch on the subject of mentally challenged animals. We have five animals in our house, four of which are mentally challenged, and the horror of an unexpected adventure has plagued us many a time. Except for with the one whose father is also her grandfather. She has to be shoved out of the house to use the bathroom. Just this weekend our mentally challenged cat almost died in the ductwork of our house. I commend you on your training abilities.

Thank you so much - my final year deadlines are fast approaching, and it turns out that a good laugh was just what I needed. Aaaah, simple dog... I can only imagine what life must be like with simple dog in the family. You draw the facial expressions so well! Thank you!

I have a similar problem, but with one of our cats and not the dogs. The cat is brain-damaged (long story involving owners, a dog and a rescue). We've had him five years and he has trouble with going through the cat flap, figuring out which direction you are in and who is calling his name, not being a dog, if you move the furniture, and trying to eat your hand with his massive fangs to show affection. Sometimes he also finds it hard to figure out where his dinner is... even when it's in front of him.

I can relate.:C My dog, Bear, has epilepsy and before he was put on twice-a-day meds, he'd randomly have seizures. After each seizure, he kind of "forgot" everything for a while and it took him a few days to fully get his memory/personality back. So for anywhere from 12-48 hours after a seizure, he'd be all loopy and not recognize any of us and run in circles and pee on EVERYTHING and then prance around in it and rub his body on everything like he was on an ecstasy trip. Ah, the joys of having simple dogs.

wow, you should write a pilot for some stoner cartoon based on this dogs adventures...make a few up too, the best part is they could be shown prime time...no acid trips required. the dog perpetually is in one!

DAMN when I started reading this I was like "hey only 12 comments so far! I can leave one and it will still be relatively close to the top and maybe Allie will notice me!"

and by the time I finished reading there were already like A BAJILLION :(

Anyway I just wanted to come out of lurkdom (I've recently been going through all your archives) to say I totally dig your stories! You've inspired me to take a more comical outlook on the complete unrealness of life

I absolutely love your blog! I'm so glad you're an animal lover like me. It makes me smile to see how kind you are to such a silly creature :) Also your posts make me laugh out loud alll the time. Keep em coming!

Have you thought of getting a Thundershirt for your dog? apparently they work miracles for dog anxiety, it's kind of a wrap that makes them feel secure (like many autistic humans use).... Sounds like Simple Dog might do well with one. I got one for my dog (who isn't too far from Simple Dog herself!) and it helps her immensely. AS you can imagine they were made to help with loud noise anxiety. Www.thundershirt.com for more info....!! (and of course - LOVE LOVE LOVE your blog!)

I've seen the expressions from your simple dog facial illustrations before. In fact, your simple dog reminds me of my now deceased simple cat. He was very sweet, but just...not all there upstairs. He would see squirrels through our french doors and hurl himself after them, straight into the glass. Over and over, day after day, he would do this. Eventually we had to put blinds on them to prevent him from doing additional damage to his brain.

Today is my birthday, and you wrote a new blog post for my birthday! Yay birthday posts! Plus, I love reading about your mentally challenged dog, as it makes me feel slightly better about my own. Slightly.

Whoa. I actually feel kind of bad for thinking this is funny, since I'm sure it was really stressful for everyone involved. Glad she's (mostly) settled in again. As always, your illustrations are the best - I'm liking the running gag of Simple Dog thinking in shapes and meaningless equations.

OMG, Allie, I am SOOO glad I found you and your truly life-altering blog. It makes me so happy to read about Simple Dog - I literally cry with laughter. THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!!!Your drawings are so stellar, and I know how difficult they are to create - you make it look that effortless and graceful.LOVE this blog and LOVE you!!!

YAYYYYY!!!!!! You're back, you're back, you're back, you're baaaaaccccckkkkkk!! And I'm sure that's how simple dog greeted you internally when you went to pick her up even if she couldn't adequately express it outwardly:-)

If you believe in a hereafter, please rest assured that not only will you be handsomely rewarded for your Broken-Dog Mommaness up there, but your Broken Dog will be Fixed (not the dogladyparts way) (you know what I mean), too.

If you're not one to believe in the hereafter, then rest assured your Broken-Dog Mommaness is building you up some wonderful karma to be used as needed here on earth.

Awww, you have an Anonymous troll posting. Well, Asshole, let's see you dedicate your time and talent to make other people laugh. Maybe you could bake a shit pie and throw it at Allie. Jerk face!

Don't let the trolls get you down, Allie! I love the simple dog because my son plays with our version of simple dog when he visits my parents. This dog can't understand that the 80' by 20' pole barn is a much better source of shelter than the 1/2 inch awning by the front door.

Wow. That's actually super super scary - the part where she ran away, not the point where she behaved like Uhura after getting mind-wiped by Nomad in the second-episode Star Trek episode "The Changeling"...wait, I've said too much. Anyway, glad you got her back. Do you have her chipped? Were they able to get in touch with you because of an ID tag?

Heh. I just realized you might get a kick out of this story. Now I can't think of it without imagining it being illustrated by you. (Particularly the part where I carried the poor lost dog with a shock collar through an invisible fence - twice.)

Good job-- you have rescued an otherwise horrendous day for me, Allie. Bad cold, kids home for break, seder canceled due to uber-realistic plagues in house (ants and termites. Kill me.) But then your new post comes along and just barfs rainbows all over my shitty day. Thanks, Allie. You're almost as good as klonopine. Really.

Love, (but not in a creepy, stalkerish way)

Allyson

P.S. Are you an Allyson/Allison/Alison, too? And is your dog really named Dog? Or are you just protecting her privacy in the wake of her recent trauma?